Hail Mary: A Second Chances Sports Romance (Gridiron Love Book 1)

by Vanessa Fox

  It's honestly kind of puzzling. She's not as busty or curvy as many of the other girls in this school. She's not flirty and ditzy like the blond, fake-tan cheerleaders I'm always persuading to get into the backseat of my car. The other chicks just want to party and have a good time. But Willow is serious. Why she's so serious, I don't know. But I'm certain there's gotten be a fun side somewhere inside that cold, logical brain of hers.

  I want nothing more than to break through it and see the real Willow. I will, somehow, some way.

  I turn a corner and my early morning brain fog lifts so suddenly, it's jarring. There she is, standing on the sidewalk, navy blue backpack slung off her shoulders, hugging two thick textbooks tight to her chest as she waits for the school bus to arrive. I can see the air turn to fog in front of her face with every breath. She's not standing still— she's moving ever so slightly. She's shivering.

  Her thin peach cardigan over a knee-length summer dress isn't enough to ward off this winter chill. It'll be hot by noon, but right now she must be freezing her cute little buns off.

  I can't have that.

  I pull to the side of the road in front of her and roll down the passenger side window. I lean over and give her a cocky grin.

  "Get your ass inside, I got the heat pumped up," I order.

  She just glares at me.

  "Get in!" I repeat.

  "I don't need a ride. The bus will be here any minute now."

  "Only losers ride the bus," I say. "You don't want to be a loser, do you?"

  That's when I realize she's not alone. Another kid is standing right beside her, a tall lanky guy with thick black-rimmed eyeglasses and a face full of acne. He crosses his arms and glares at me.

  "Sorry," I wave my palm. "Just a joke."

  "Go away, Kade," Willow groans. "You're so annoying."

  "But you love it," I reply with a wink. "Come on, get in. I don't bite."

  She's not budging.

  "Just this once, please," I beg, clasping my fingers together and shaking my hands in an exaggerated way. "Just one ride and I'll leave you alone for good."

  I can't help but smirk. Just one ride… oh yeah, my mind's going there.

  Willow huffs out a frustrated breath, sending a few stray brown bangs floating up into the air in front of her face.

  "Fine," she grumbles.

  She gives the boy next to her an apologetic glance as she slips into the passenger seat.

  Satisfied, I rev the engine and peel out onto the street.

  "Ugh, do you have to do that?" Willow complains. "You're such an asshole."

  "I'm not an asshole," I say. "My mom thinks I'm the sweetest boy on earth."

  She rolls her eyes. "Well, she's delusional."

  I grab the iPod in the center console and toss it in her lap. "Put some music on, darlin'. I got a ton of stuff on there. I'm sure there's something you'll like."

  She picks it up gingerly and scrolls through the playlist. "Dirks Bentley? Will.I.Am? I don't even know what these words mean."

  I grin. "Come on, we gotta have some background music."

  She reluctantly selects something and a second later the bass starts thumping. It's Tupac, one of his classics.

  There's a look of confusion and disgust on her face.

  "What, you don't like Tupac?" I ask. "Oh, I know, I know. You're all about that classical shit, aren't you? Well darlin', I'm afraid I don't have any Beet Oven or Choppin or anything like that."

  She rolls her eyes so hard, I'm afraid they'll get stuck in the back of her head. "You know that's not how you pronounce—"

  I put my hand up. "Chill, babe, I'm just joking. Yes, I know. Beethoven. Chopin. Boring elevator music. I got it."

  "It's not boring," she objects. "It's beautiful. You've just been hit in the head so many times you wouldn't be able to appreciate it."

  "Ouch!" I put my hand to my heart. "You're so mean."

  She bites her lip, and I think it's to stifle the barely visible smile that's starting to emerge on her glowing face.

  "I'm not as dumb as you think, you know," I say. "Maybe if you actually tried to get to know me, you'd realize that."

  "Oh yeah?" She raises her eyebrow, as if she's ready to rise to the challenge and prove me wrong.

  "Yeah. I'm a straight A student. Well, almost. I know all about classical music, too. My mom made me take piano lessons for five years."

  She widens her eyes. She looks like she doesn't believe one word of it. But it's all true. I'm not that big of an idiot.

  "I can tutor you, you know, if you're having trouble in one of your classes," I chuckle.

  She bursts out into laughter. "Yeah, right. You tutoring me, that's hilarious. Tell me, who's homework do you copy every night to maintain those A's?"

  "No one's," I say truthfully. "I do it all myself."

  "Uh huh," she says it like she doesn't believe me, but I think she does. If I didn't know better, I'd almost say she looks impressed.

  "Hey," she says. "Where are we going? You took a wrong turn."

  I say nothing. I just keep my hand gripped on the steering wheel, trying to suppress a grin.

  "Kade," she says sternly, casting me a wary side glance. Hearing her say my name sends a shriver of adrenaline through my body.

  I imagine her whispering my name into my ear while I kiss the delicate, supple skin of her neck. I imagine her moaning my name while I'm— okay, that's enough, Kade.

  I clear my throat and throw her a cocky smirk. "We're taking the scenic route."

  She huffs out an exaggerated breath and crosses her arms. "Whatever you've got up your sleeve, Kade, knock it off. Just take me to school. Pul-ease."

  "We are going to school, darlin'," I grin. "As I said, we're just taking the scenic route. Hell, we got time. The first bell doesn't ring for another half hour."

  She scrunches her face in frustration and bites her bottom lip nervously. She's annoyed with me, but the bloom of pink in her cheeks tells me she's anxiously curious for what I have in store for her. I can tell I have an effect on her. It's the most obvious thing in the world. Willow Greene may be a lot of things, but good at hiding her emotions is not one of them.

  I take a left on Bernard St, a winding road that leads us out of the suburbs and curves its way around the base of Widow's Peak, a small mountain, or maybe more accurately, a large hill. I used to think these rolling Georgia hills were mountains until I took a trip with my mom and step-dad to Colorado and saw what real mountains look like for the first time.

  We snake around Widow's Peak on a steep incline, the view obscured by the thick orange foliage of oak and maple trees. Willow glances past me, trying to catch a glimpse of something, anything, through the leaves. A couple minutes later we reach the top. I slow my car to a stop and turn off the engine.

  "Well, here we are," I say.

  "Okay," she says, glancing around unimpressed, looking for something that's supposed to wow her.

  "Come on," I cock my head before opening up the door and climbing out. She reluctantly follows my lead.

  The crisp morning air is even cooler up here. It has a chill to it that easily permeates my Dicky's t-shirt and leather jacket, biting right to the bone. As I head out on a small path in front of the car, I notice that Willow has her arms crossed, shivering hard already.

  "Come on, it's just up here," I say, placing my palm softly on the small of her back, guiding her alongside me. She audibly gasps at my touch.

  We make our way past thick trees and bushes until the view opens up to us. We have a 180 degree view of our little town, nestled in a small valley between rolling hills and miniature mountains. Vibrant oranges, reds, and yellows paint the landscape, and I just know she's impressed.

  I glance at her excitedly. "What do you think?"

  She huffs out a breath that turns to a plume of fog in front of her face. "Wow, it's... it's nice."

  Without hesitation I peel my leather jacket off and place it around her shoulders.

  "
Oh, Kade!" she objects. "I'm fine, really. You'll freeze in that t-shirt."

  Her eyes rake down my chest and bare muscular arms, and that alone is enough for me to forget about the cold.

  "Don't be ridiculous, babe," I grin. I thump my chest with my fist. "I'm a football player. I'm tough."

  She rolls her eyes playfully. "Yeah, okay."

  "Seriously!" I insist. "I gotta get out and practice no matter what the weather's like. I've played in the mud and pouring rain. I've played in four inches of snow. I'm accustomed to just about anything. What, you think a little chill's gonna affect me? Please."

  She purses her lips, and seems to be thinking about something. I like to think she's imagining my muscles flexing as my half naked body rolls around in the mud.

  Truthfully, it is cold as fuck up here. But I'm trying my hardest to ignore it and ward off the shivering.

  Then I get an idea. "Hey, if you're really worried about me being cold, why don't you do something about it? Come snuggle a little bit closer. Body heat, you know."

  She sighs, exasperated, as I wink at her. But she doesn't push me away when I snake my arm around her waist, under the jacket, and lean my body weight against her side. This close, I can smell a hint of strawberry shampoo wafting from her dark brown hair, and the light scent of a familiar brand of body lotion that I can't quite name. Whatever it is, it's intoxicating, and my heart speeds up in my chest.

  Damn, is this really working? Is she really letting me get close to her?

  Maybe she's not as tough a shell to crack as I thought she'd be.

  "So I guess this is where you take all the girls, huh?" she asks smugly, trying to pretend like she's unaffected by my arm around her waist. But the blush in her cheeks betrays her.

  "Aww, you've got me all figured out, don't you?" I answer playfully. "You're only the..." I count on my free hand, pretending like I'm figuring out a complex math equation. "Twenty-third?"

  "Ooo, twenty-third," she mocks. "I feel so special."

  "You should," I wink. "Only the best of the best get a chance with Kade Hughes."

  "Oh, is that so? Tell me, did those girls come up here on their own free will, or did you trick them the same way you tricked me?"

  "Ouch, darlin'," I put my hand to my heart. "You're so mean."

  "And you're an asshole," she grumbles. She's frowning, but there's a hint of playfulness to it. She's flirting with me. The snobby, prude librarian is blossoming in front of me like a beautiful flower. I'm almost in disbelief that this is working out so well.

  But of course it is. Why wouldn't it? I'm Kade Fucking Hughes. Girls melt in my presence. I'm pretty sure even my middle-aged female teachers get a little hot and bothered when I bring out the charm.

  Emboldened by my newfound confidence, I brush my thumb against the gentle curve of her waist, and then pull her in close, until her body is pressed against mine and our eyes lock on. Her skin looks like porcelain, a delicate milky white, with a rosy bloom radiating from her cheeks. Her eyes are wide and expectant, and I feel like I could drown in the deep, oceanic blue of her irises. I almost seems like I can see straight into her soul.

  Her thick, naturally pink lips part, her breath hitching. A flame ignites inside me and I lean down to close the gap between between us.

  Before our lips touch, she pushes hard against my chest, gasping loudly. She stumbles back, a look of shock on her face, like she's just been violently jarred awake from a trance.

  "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she accuses me.

  I don't know what to say, so I just shrug. "Kissing you."

  "Why would you think I'd want to kiss you?"

  "Why not?"

  Willow tears the jacket from her shoulders and shoves it against my chest before stomping back towards the car. "I'm not interested in being another notch on your bedpost, Kade Hughes."

  She says my name like it's venom.

  I sigh as I follow her. I guess Willow Greene isn't going to be so easy to conquer, after all.

  "I know, I know, you're getting bored of fucking vapid blond cheerleaders, so you want to try a new flavor, I get it," she rants. She stands by the passenger side door, arms crossed. "But I'm not like that. I'm not gonna sleep with some hunky football jerk just because he shows me a little attention."

  "Did you say hunky?" I ask with a wink.

  She just ignores me. "I want my first time to be special. I want to fall in love with a guy who I know genuinely loves me. A guy who values the same things I value. I'm not interested in messing around with some douchebag who sleeps with a new girl every weekend. Some jerk who will say and do whatever it takes to get into my pants, and then brag to his buddies afterward about what a slut I am."

  "Babe," I object. "That's not me."

  She rolls her eyes and scoffs. "I'm not your babe."

  "Listen, I didn't mean to—"

  Before I can finish my sentence, she flings the door open and climbs inside, slamming it behind her.

  You know what? Fuck it. I'm not gonna apologize to her. I'm not gonna grovel at her feet like some kind of pussy. I want her, and she wants me, no matter how hard she denies it. That's why I tried to kiss her. No more, no less. I'm not going to apologize for that. I did nothing wrong.

  I get into the driver's seat and turn on the engine. She can't take more than a few seconds of Tupac's classic beats before she snaps her hand to the dashboard and turns the stereo off, irritated. We sit in tense silence as I drive towards the high school.

  I want to argue with her. I want to explain myself. But I keep my mouth shut.

  I can't help but resent her for all the assumptions she's making about me. I'm not nearly as big of a douchebag as she thinks I am. I'm not some asshole who uses and abuses girls just for the hell of it. Hell, I'm not even that much of a player.

  Sure, I've messed around some of the hottest girls in school. Sure, I'm a horny bastard.

  But I haven't even gone all the way yet.

  What Willow doesn't know is that I also want my first time to be special. I also want to love, and be loved back, genuinely.

  I'd never tell anyone that, of course. And I won't tell her that.

  Not after all these accusations she's thrown at me. She's so close-minded, she can't possibly accept that I could be a normal person just like her. She has her preconceived notions about me, and nothing will change her mind.

  Willow Greene really is a snob, and hell, maybe I've just dodged a bullet.

  Willow

  As I enter the school building, I brace myself for continual harassment from Kade Hughes whenever he gets the chance. I make a promise to myself to ignore him, to the best of my ability, and not engage in his flirting. But to my surprise, he stops all on his own. The following week passes by with no attention from him at all. He doesn't talk to me or even make eye contact. It's like I'm not even there.

  Mrs. Clark's third period chemistry is the only time we're forced to interact. But he keeps his eyes on the front of the class. He stays on task. He doesn't flirt with me, touch me, or talk to me at all except to discuss completing the task at hand.

  I should feel relieved. But I don't.

  I hate to admit it, but I… I miss the attention. I miss his cocky grin. I miss gazing into his captivating green eyes.

  Despite myself, I wish he'd crack an inappropriate joke. I wish he'd not-so-subtly place his hand on my lower back, lean in and whisper something perverted in my ear.

  On Friday night, I sit reading my novel, anxiously glancing up at the house across the street where his dad lives, just waiting for him to pull up in his noisy car blasting ear-piercing rock music. I want him to get out and walk over to talk to me.

  And when he doesn't, my mind wanders back in time, replaying the memory of our almost-kiss on that frosty Morning morning, parked up on Widow's Peak with the gorgeous multi-colored view of the valley below us. I create an alternate reality fantasy, one where I don't push him away. One where he leans down, our lips meet, I melt int
o his kiss, and fall into his warm embrace.

  God, what is wrong with me?

  Kade Hughes is a total asshole.

  The fact that he's ignoring me now just goes to show how entitled he truly is. He doesn't like being rejected. It's probably never happened to him in his entire life. It must be a blow to his ego. So in retaliation, he's ignoring me.

  How mature.

  I roll my eyes and fix my attention back on Pride and Prejudice. But my brain can't parse the words. They seem incomprehensible. Again and again my thoughts return to Kade.

  Ugh. Even when he's nowhere in sight, Kade Hughes still manages to grate on my nerves. How is it possible for one person to be so annoying?

  Chapter 3

  Kade

  Willow Greene smirks, her thick apricot-hued lips turning up at the sides, making a dimple form in her cheeks. I'm struck by the brilliance of her impossibly blue eyes as she flashes me a playful wink. She wraps her arms around my waist and leans into me, gazing up—

  "Hughes!" Coach Parker angrily barks.

  "Huh?" I turn my head a split second too late. Grayson's 6'3", 220 pound frame fills my field of view. He pummels into my side, knocking me onto the grass. I land with a thud, the football slipping out of my throwing hand and bouncing behind me across the field. I try to scramble to get it, but the force of the hit took the wind out of me. Grayson practically smothers me as he climbs over my body to scramble for the fumbled ball. He scoops it up in his thick hands and runs into the endzone. I just sit and watch, grass and dirt plastered on the side of my helmet.

  "What the hell are you doing, Hughes?" Coach Parker demands. "You daydreaming out there?"

  Yes. "No, sir!"

  "Get it together, son!" He marches over to me and places one hand on his hip as he carries a clipboard in the other. "Your performance is slipping. I don't like what I'm seeing. Whatever it is, get the hell over it and get back in the game!"

  "Yes, sir!"

  "We don't want a repeat of last night, now do we?"

  "No, sir!"

  I rise to my feet and wipe the grass off my helmet.